Chapter Text
You ask for tales of the Four Knights child?
Very well. There are a great many tales of the Knights of Gwyn, for their deeds were mighty, and their names legend.
Ornstein the Lion, Captain of the Knights
Artorias the Wolf, Abysswalker
Hawkeye Gough, Master of the Bow
And Lord’s Blade Ciaran, Master Assassin.
The Knights first arose during the Final Dragon War, at the very dawn of the Age of Fire. Lord Gwyn and the other Lords had finished their initial campaign against the Everlasting Dragons, but they found that even with the might of the Lord Souls, some of the dragons proved too strong or too crafty to best in combat, even with the might of Gods. And these dragons hid themselves away in the corners of the world, unseen and unnoticed by many. So Lord Gwyn turned to his people and decreed: “Let those who are worthy come forth in these times, for we have need of knights to safeguard the weak and protect this new age we have wrought. For we shall search the darkest caves and scour the highest peaks of the archtrees until we find these dragons, and we shall mount their heads as trophies on our walls!”
And the people were heartened, and many came forth, to be trained and clad in the garb of the Silver Knights, defenders of the Gods and the Age of Fire. And together with the Lords, they ventured forth and slew drake and dragon alike, and so the plate and sheen of their armor was known across the land for deeds of valor and courage.
But Seath the Scaleless, Duke of Anor Londo, looked down from his high tower and saw that the knights were weak, and that they had but faced the weakest of the remaining Everlasting Dragons. He saw the beasts the knights had destroyed were but the chaff that blows before the coming of a great storm, so he hurried down to Anor Londo, home of the Gods, straight to the ear of Gwyn.
“Beware my Lord,” said he, “Do not be too confident in your victory, for the most dangerous and most cunning of my kin still remain at large, and they yet seek to destroy you.” At this, Gwyn’s firstborn Son erupted in laughter, and most of the hall followed. “Foolish lizard!” he cried, “All that time in the night air of your tower has addled your senses. We have defeated the Everlasting Dragons, ground them under our heel, never to rise again!” And his warriors, cheered in exultation, along with his friend Havel the Rock, warrior-bishop of the Way of White, for Seath was not much liked among the Court, while Gwyn’s Firstborn was.
But Seath was full of rage and made to storm from the Court, so humiliated was he at the laughter of the Gods. But Gwyn frowned at his son and motioned for quiet, so that a hush spread across the entire sun-drenched hall of Anor Londo. “Silence my son, for though our knights may be brave, and our arms strong, it may be that Seath speaks the truth. How didst thou know of this, O Duke?” And the firstborn was ashamed at his actions and hung his head, while Seath spoke.
“After the first great battle, Lord, I walked among the dead, and saw many of my former brethren lying there. But there were some who were missing. I saw no claw, no scale, no horn of theirs, though I searched for many long hours. And now my Channelers bring me tales from the countryside, small hamlets and villages of devastation and death, where no living thing remains.”
Havel, the warrior-bishop spoke up, clad not in his armor, but a robe of purest white, though his intentions were anything but. Long had the Bishop and the Duke hated each other, though the source of the hatred had been lost to time. “How comest thou by this information, ‘O Duke’ if even our fastest messengers cannot ride to Lordran in a week’s time?”
And Seath smirked at this chance, and gestured to his side. With a flash of light and sound, a score of his servant-magicians appeared before him, and as one, they knelt before Lord Gwyn. There were shouts of astonishment among the courtiers, and even Gwyn was taken aback by the sight. Seath smiled then and gestured to his Channelers, who stood and vanished again. “Fear not, Gods of Lordran, for these sorcerers serve me, and through me, Lord Gwyn, whose light shines above us all. Thus I have named them Channelers, for they shall channel the will of Gwyn to all the peoples of the land.”
Gwyn was pleased with this declaration, and Seath’s generous gift of this newfound power to his ranks, though Havel still eyed the Duke with great dislike. However, the Lord of Sunlight ordered the Court adjourned, save his trusted council, for he now took Seath’s warning to heart and was troubled by its meaning.
Among those remaining were Bishop Havel, Duke Seath, the Witch of Izalith, and Gwyn’s Firstborn Son. Lord Nito alone was absent from the Three Great Lords, as he dwelled within the Tomb of the Giants and cared not for the Living.
Seath looked irritated at this last addition, and questioned the Witch of Izalith, who had ever been cordial to him. “O Lady of the Flame, why does Gwyn bring his son to a war council? Is he not still a child, godling though he may be?” The Witch, mostly hidden beneath her modest robes, nodded in agreement. “Gwyn does dote on his children so, but the child does show aptitude in strategy and strength of arms. Already the people, and those beloved of him have named him the God of War. Let us retain our judgment for now, though his association with Bishop Havel may not be to your liking.”
Seath snorted at the thought, but held his tongue. The counsel session was brief, but to the point, with the pomp of the Court absent. Seath quickly listed the Everlasting Dragons still at large, and though mighty the Council was, all were unnerved at those named.
Glaurung the Deceiver, whose talons were as long as a man and as sharp as a spearpoint
Ladon, Father of Hydras, the Hundred Headed
Ormr the Iron Scaled, ancient even among the Everlasting, and one of the First Things
Pythos the Rotten, so corrupted to be immune even to Nito’s Blight
Shemal the Great, Mother to a Thousand and mate to Ormr, vast beyond imagining
Tenis the Clever, who was never seen by godly eyes, but who left the remains of his grisly work behind.
And Kalameet the Black, the Three-Eyed, feared above all others.
These were the remaining dragons who, save Seath, were now all marked for death by the Council. At this, the Firstborn leapt from his seat in great excitement, drawing his sword.
“Let me go father! I shall bring the best knights with me and we shall destroy them and mount their heads in the trophy room, as you proclaimed so long ago!” But Gwyn’s smile was one of regret not approval. ‘Alas my son, I cannot let you do such a thing. You are young, and full of the pride of youth. Imagine if you were struck down. What would your siblings, your mother do? What would I do, in my grief? And who would the people of Anor Londo follow after I am gone? Gwynnivere? I think not. In this, I shall deny you.” And his son’s face fell in dismay, for he had been reprimanded by his father now twice in the span of but a few hours.
“Though,” mused the Lord of Sunlight, “Your idea does have some merit. We will need a special group of knights to help us hunt these dragons.”
The Firstborn brightened, and his mind began to churn. Seath did as well, for he could recognize intelligence when he saw it, and the mind of Gwyn’s son was nevertheless a keen one.
“They shall have to be a small group, Father. No grand formations and flying banners.” He turned to Seath. “If these dragons are as crafty as you state, Duke Seath, they will be long gone before we arrive.”
Seath nodded. The child’s enthusiasm was infectious. Now everyone in the room was beginning to consider the possibilities.
Gwyn tapped the arm of his throne, deep in thought. “What qualities would you all recommend these knights possess? Think deeply on this. They must represent the peak of Anor Londo’s ability, the strength of this Age of Fire. They cannot be found lacking.”
There was silence for a while, and then each began to speak.
The Witch-“They must be creative and diverse in battle, for who knows what calamity may arise?”
Seath-“They must be intelligent, to discern where my brethren have hidden themselves.”
Havel-“They must be loyal to lord Gwyn above all else, lest some minor kingdom attempt to enlist their services ‘gainst another.”
The Firstborn-“And above all else, Father, they must be strong. For the Everlasting Dragons did not rule the Earth through treachery alone. We must have the strongest of all the Silver Knights if we are to have any chance at victory.”
At this, one of the remaining Silver Knights stepped forward and knelt. “My Lords, I realize it may be above my position to speak in such great company, but I have been acclaimed as the best spearman among all the Silver Knights. In sparring matches, there is no one who can match me in that skill. I am light on my feet and can cover wide ground in one leap. I submit my skills and myself to your appraisal. I only ask to know the number of our company so that I may begin to seek out worthy companions.”
The Council was greatly astonished and indeed both Seath and Havel were slightly angered at this knight’s arrogance, intruding as he did onto a council of the Gods.
But Gwyn laughed and motioned for the knight to rise. The Witch and the Firstborn smiled also, for they recognized the peril this young knight had placed himself in. “I commend you for your bravery, my son. Remove your helmet so we may see thine face.”
The knight did so, revealing a young face with set, determined eyes. His long red hair had been trimmed into a ponytail to fit into his helmet, but it still caught the eye.
“I am Knight Ornstein, My Lords. If you intend to hunt down these dragons posthaste, I shall scour the Silver Knights for suitable candidates. I only ask what is to be the number of our company.”
Gwyn nodded. “Four is a pleasing number to my mind. If no one has any objections?”
There were none.
Gwyn stood, his regal bearing and height in full display as the Lord of Sunlight.
“So be it. Seek out your comrades so that we may ride posthaste. Go forth Knight Ornstein, Captain of the Four Knights of Gwyn!”